252 ‘And yf she nedeth ony more syluer, Come thou agayne to me. And, by this token she hath me sent, She shall haue such thre.’ 253 The monke was goynge to London ward, There to holde grete mote, The knyght that rode so hye on hors, To brynge hym vnder fote. 254 ‘Whether be ye away?’ sayd Robyn: ‘Syr, to maners in this londe, Too reken with our reues, That haue done moch wronge.’ 255 ‘Come now forth, Lytell Johan, And harken to my tale; A better yemen I knowe none, To seke a monkës male.’ 256 ‘How moch is in yonder other corser?’ sayd Robyn, ‘The soth must we see:’ ‘By Our Lady,’ than sayd the monke, ‘That were no curteysye, 257 ‘To bydde a man to dyner, And syth hym bete and bynde.’ ‘It is our oldë maner,’ sayd Robyn, ‘To leue but lytell behynde.’ 258 The monke toke the hors with spore, No lenger wolde he abyde: ‘Askë to drynkë,’ than sayd Robyn, ‘Or that ye forther ryde.’ 259 ‘Nay, for God,’ than sayd the monke, ‘Me reweth I cam so nere; For better chepe I myght haue dyned In Blythe or in Dankestere.’ 260 ‘Grete well your abbot,’ sayd Robyn, ‘And your pryour, I you pray, And byd hym send me such a monke To dyner euery day.’ 261 Now lete we that monke be styll, And speke we of that knyght: Yet he came to holde his day, Whyle that it was lyght. 262 He dyde him streyt to Bernysdale, Under the grenë-wode tre, And he founde there Robyn Hode, And all his mery meynë. 263 The knyght lyght doune of his good palfray; Robyn whan he gan see, So curteysly he dyde adoune his hode, And set hym on his knee. 264 ‘God the sauë, Robyn Hode, And all this company:’ ‘Welcome be thou, gentyll knyght, And ryght welcome to me.’ 265 Than bespake hym Robyn Hode, To that knyght so fre: What nedë dryueth the to grenë wode? I praye the, syr knyght, tell me. 266 ‘And welcome be thou, ge[n]tyll knyght, Why hast thou be so longe?’ ‘For the abbot and the hyë iustyce Wolde haue had my londe.’ 267 ‘Hast thou thy londe [a]gayne?’ sayd Robyn; ‘Treuth than tell thou me:’ ‘Ye, for God,’ sayd the knyght, ‘And that thanke I God and the. 268 ‘But take not a grefe,’ sayd the knyght, ‘that I haue be so longe; I came by a wrastelynge, And there I holpe a porë yeman, With wronge was put behynde.’ 269 ‘Nay, for God,’ sayd Robyn, ‘Syr knyght, that thanke I the; What man that helpeth a good yeman, His frende than wyll I be.’ 270 ‘Haue here foure ho_n_dred pounde,’ tha_n_ sayd the knyght, ‘The whiche ye lent to me; And here is also twenty marke For your curteysy.’ 271 ‘Nay, for God,’ than sayd Robyn, ‘Thou broke it well for ay; For Our Lady, by her [hyë] selerer, Hath sent to me my pay.